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The Last Husband

The Last Husband (Forever Love #2)(34)
Author: J.S. Cooper

“I told you I could make you come from playing with your br**sts.”

“But that’s not all you did,” I protested, laughing at the pleased look on his face. “You’re a goof.”

“You see the secret side of me,” he said, only half-joking.

“I’m glad.” I reached my hand down into his pants and realized that he was hard and ready to go. “I suppose you want to see the secret side of me as well?”

“Well, I won’t say no.” He closed his eyes as my hands grasped his erection and slid up and down the length of him. “Don’t stop,” he whispered with a deep voice.

“Hold on.” I quickly removed my hand from him and he groaned as I pulled his shorts down. “I want to do something.”

“Oh?” He looked up at me and his eyes glinted. “Backdoor already?”

“Zane, shut up, no.” I pushed him back down. “This is kind of embarrassing,” I began and my voice drifted off.

“Oh.” He sat up again and his eyes looked really interested. “Now, this I have to hear.”

“I want to give you a lap dance,” I mumbled slowly.

“A lap dance?” He looked up at me in confusion. “Like a stripper?”

“Yes.” I blushed and looked down and he jumped up and grabbed my hands.

“Well, what are we waiting for then? Let’s go downstairs.”

“Downstairs?” I was puzzled by his words, but all I could do was stare at his manhood. It was sticking out right at me and he was long and hard. I swallowed hard as I took him in. He was such a gorgeous, magnificent man, and he was all mine.

“I have a chair that would suit a lap dance perfectly.”

“Oh?” I wondered if he knew that from prior experience, but dismissed my jealous thoughts. Don’t go there, Lucky. Not now. I commanded myself. I knew that if anything, Zane would be honest and there was a likely chance that I wouldn’t be happy with the answer.

“Yes.” He pulled me with him and stopped quickly, letting go of my hand and walking to the nightstand. “Condom.” He showed me what he had gone back to retrieve, and I laughed.

“Well, aren’t you the thoughtful one?”

“Now, let’s go. I’m excited for my first dirty lap dance.”

“Who said it’s going to be dirty?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“There is no way you’re going to rub up and down on my c**k and not have it be dirty.” He laughed and we ran down the stairs.

He walked over to his iPhone dock and put on some music and I heard Usher crooning to me through the surround-sound speakers.

“You’re gross.”

“You don’t want to be a tease, do you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I do.”

“Come here, you.” Zane pulled me down onto the chair with him and I found myself sitting atop of his lap with my br**sts crushed against his chest. I leaned forward and crushed his lips against mine and started moving my hips in time to the music, loving the feel of him in between my legs.

“You’re going to kill me, Lucky,” he groaned as I rocked back and forth. I bit his bottom lip before slowly licking down to his chest and lightly sucking his ni**les.

“Oh,” Zane groaned.

I felt a sense of power fill me as I continued kissing down his stomach, until I had inched my way off of his lap and had his manhood in front of my face. Zane looked down at me with surprise in his eyes and I winked up at him.

“It’s a reward for being a good boy.” I chuckled at the delight on his face and then slowly took him into my mouth.

Chapter 7

Zane

“Do you think mom is looking for us?” Noah barged into my room without knocking and sat down on the bed next to me. “Maybe she’s looking for us and can’t find us.”

“Don’t be stupid. We still live in the same house.” I looked at him with derision and anger. “If she wanted to find us she knows where to look—the same place she left us.”

“Don’t you ever hate being right?” Noah’s eyes looked bleak and I felt sorry for being so mean. He was only 14 and still had hope that our mother would show up again. At 16, I knew that our mother was never showing up again. She was probably living it up on a Caribbean island, somewhere, with all our father’s money.

“No.” I looked away from him. “Can I finish my book, please?”

“What are you reading?”

“The Grapes of Wrath.”

“Sounds boring.” He yawned and stood up.

“Well, you’ll have to read it for class one day as well.” I laughed at him. “What are you going to do?”

“I thought I’d go play some drums.” He looked at me, eagerly. “Want to join?”

I looked at my book and then back at his face and laid the book on the bed and sighed. The report could wait. “Okay, but I get to choose the songs. No more Rolling Stones, please.”

“But I want to be like Charlie Watts.”

“Can you be more like Ringo Starr?”

“What’s your obsession with the Beatles?” Noah shook his head.

“I’m not obsessed with the Beatles,” I protested.

“I thought you would hate them.” Noah hesitated. “I’m just surprised.”

“Why would I hate them?” My breath caught.

“You know.” He paused.

“No, I don’t. Why?” Did he remember? My body was burning up as I looked at him.

“Mom used to love them, she used to sing that lonely people song all the time.”

“Eleanor Rigby.” My voice was low and I looked away from him.

“Yeah.” Noah rubbed my arm. “I love you, Zane.”

“You’re too young to be such a sap, bro.”

“You know you love me, too.”

“Okay, let’s go play some Rolling Stones.”

“It worked.” He ran down to the basement and I followed him with a smile. I was glad he hadn’t pushed the issue. I didn’t like to think about my obsession with the Beatles. I didn’t like to think about it being one of the only connections I had to my mother. She left us; she didn’t deserve to be remembered.

“Let’s play ‘Satisfaction.’” Noah grinned up at me as I entered the garage and he started drumming.

I felt my eyes open quickly and I looked around the room looking for Noah and his drums. I heard the music in my head as clearly as I had that day. Disappointment flooded through me as the silent darkness reflected back at me. Noah was gone. I laid looking at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Lucky sleeping next to me. I tried to concentrate on her light snores and not the sounds of music still echoing in my ears. I needed to think about something else. I was going to drive myself crazy if I kept dreaming about Noah and our mom.

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